


Strength Crumbles

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crying, Friendship, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 19:22:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11363994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: What do you do when you find the strongest person in your life crying? This is what Remus does.





	Strength Crumbles

Have you ever seen the strongest person you've ever met just crumble? It's terrible and frightening and heartbreaking. Now for most people, they imagine this scenario, and it's their mum or dad that they can't imagine crying. Not me. I've seen my parents cry on a number of occasions, mostly related to my "condition." No, I'm talking about my best friend. He had been through some really terrible things, but he always seemed to brush it off. He'd throw the nasty letters in the fire, say a few cuss words, laugh and go about his day. Sure, there would be moments he would disappear into the bathroom, but we were teenage boys, so I didn't think much of it. Then, one day, I heard someone yell in the bathroom and went to investigate. I wasn't sure what I expected to find, but it sure wasn't that. There he was, curled into himself, sitting on the bathroom floor. That was a shock as it was. He was so open; he never sat curled up like that. But, as I heard a hiccup, I noticed he was crying. And not "I-just-saw-a-puppy-die-in-a-movie" soft crying either. No, he was full on ugly cry sobbing. I dropped to my knees, embracing him at once. As I grabbed his hand, I noticed the damage. It looked as though he had hit the wall. I'd seen his hand busted before, urged him to get it looked at. He'd always say he was fine and it was from a fight, for me not to worry. I guess the saying that hindsight is 20/20 is accurate. I could see the pieces falling into place. I mentally kicked myself for not noticing sooner. I wanted to ask so badly what happened. I saw a piece of parchment on the floor. Picking it up, I was appalled at what I read. How could someone talk to their own child like that? All I could do was hold him until he stopped crying. Except he didn't. He cried there for hours, shaking in my arms. James was the only one who came in, but he backed out again when he saw us. I think he ended up guarding the door because no one else came in. He fell asleep like that, face wet, hands tangled in my jumper. Using my height to my advantage, I lifted his sleeping form and carried him to his bed. I set him down, but when I tried to go to my own bed, he wouldn't let go. I made a judgment call and laid down next to him. There wasn't much room, but cuddling helped us fit. I fell asleep with his weight on my chest. His presence was comforting, and I knew my presence would comfort him. That was the first time I saw the strongest person I know cry. That was the first time my heart broke.


End file.
